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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193258">A Ojos Vistas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuliares/pseuds/Yuliares'>Yuliares</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Diablero (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Domestic, Found Family, Gen, Post-Season/Series 01, Season/Series 01 Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>708</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuliares/pseuds/Yuliares</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As the team settles down, Nancy watches.</p><blockquote>
  <p>“Will you tell me a story?” whispers Mariana, snuggling closer.<br/>“No,” says Nancy, closing her eyes, and puts an arm around Mariana. “Go to sleep.”<br/>It’s only a few minutes until Mariana’s breath slows, soft and relaxed.<br/>Nancy huffs, amused, and lets herself relax as well.<br/>It’s a good thing Mariana doesn’t actually need a bedtime story.<br/>Nancy doesn’t know any.</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Ojos Vistas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm weak for found family feels, complex characters and relationships, and ridiculous supernatural snafus. </p><p>Watched this on a whim... and finished the first season in 24 hours. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nancy wakes to darkness, and the soft sound of feet.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” she asks, eyes adjusting to the pale shades of night.</p><p>The feet pause. “I can’t sleep,” says Mariana, and Nancy twists her head around to look at the kid, pajama shirt wrinkled and braids starting to come loose. She’s digging the toes of her bare feet into the floor.</p><p>Nancy sighs. “Come on then,” she says, shifting on the couch and lifting her blanket so Mariana can scramble in beside her. The couch groans a bit as they shift, and for a moment, Mariana’s elbow digs into Nancy’s ribs, cold feet kicking at her shins.</p><p>Nancy waits patiently for Mariana to settle down, and then tucks the blanket around them. It’s not exactly comfortable, but she’s slept in worse.</p><p>“Will you tell me a story?” whispers Mariana, snuggling closer.</p><p>“No,” says Nancy, closing her eyes, and puts an arm around Mariana. “Go to sleep.”</p><p>It’s only a few minutes until Mariana’s breath slows, soft and relaxed.</p><p>Nancy huffs, amused, and lets herself relax as well.</p><p>It’s a good thing Mariana doesn’t actually need a bedtime story. </p><p>Nancy doesn’t know any.</p><p>~</p><p>Nancy watches Keta braid Mariana’s hair, still shiny and wet from the bath. It’s a good look on her, the way her face softens when she speaks to the little girl. It’s a good moment, Nancy thinks. If Ventura were here, she would want him to draw them like this.</p><p>Later, when Mariana has scampered off, or looks the other way, Keta’s face will darken. It must be hard, Nancy thinks, to have a child in the house.</p><p>A wish, half fulfilled, and all the more bitter for being incomplete.</p><p>~</p><p>Elvis is still so afraid to trust in anything good. She sees him reaching to touch his father’s necklace, as if reminding himself it’s really there. He’s only afraid because he loves so easily, and is afraid to show it. </p><p>Nancy tries to lead by example, but he can be pretty stuck in his ways.</p><p>It’s okay. He was once patient with her.</p><p>Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be patient with him.</p><p>~</p><p>El Indio calls regularly, and is rejected just as often. His single-minded attentions for Keta leave him blind to the rest of them.</p><p>He bores Nancy.</p><p>She much prefers his girls, who are spoiled and loud, but make Mariana laugh until she’s breathless. It’s good for Mariana, to have friends. To have had a father that loved her.</p><p>Should she be jealous?</p><p>Or is that something she traded, all those years ago, to that first demon who answered her call?</p><p>~</p><p>Nancy closes her eyes, savoring the burst of flavors across her tongue. She always gives them away - the tastes and the scents of her life - when she lets them in. Or maybe they’re taken - but she likes to think of it as a gift. She doesn’t mind - it just means she gets to learn them all over again, a never-ending parade of the first time. And who knows? Maybe one of her demons will decide it likes the taste of chilaquiles more than blood.</p><p>“What are you smiling about?” asks Mariana, propping her chin up on her hand.</p><p>Nancy lets her eyes flick over to meet her stare, before rolling her head around to face her. Did all children have such large eyes? She can’t recall.</p><p>“Did you know Elvis once ate so many chilaquiles that he vomited all the way from here,” she gestures to their seats at the table, “To the wall over there?”</p><p>“Nance!” cries Elvis, aggrieved, as Mariana laughs.</p><p>“No gross stories at the table,” says Keta, but her stern tone is paired with a smile.</p><p>“It was your fault,” Elvis complains.</p><p>At Mariana’s questioning look, Keta smooths her hair and says, “Nancy challenged him to an eating contest.”</p><p>Eyes wide, Mariana’s gaze turns back to Nancy. “Did you win?” she asks, far too serious for a child so young.</p><p>Nancy leans forward, so close that their foreheads nearly touch, and grins with all her teeth. She thinks about a priest, and a feather, and the laugh of a child around this table, surrounded by those who mean the most to her.</p><p>“I always win,” she promises. “<em> We </em> always win.”</p>
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